


Under Starry Skies We Are Lost

by Kiraly



Category: Ship to Wreck - Florence + the Machine (Song)
Genre: Artificial Intelligence, Cyborgs, F/F, Grief/Mourning, Jukebox Fanworks Exchange, Sleep Deprivation, Space Opera
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 17:23:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14773943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiraly/pseuds/Kiraly
Summary: The old captain is gone. The new captain, caught up in her grief, lashes out at the friends who try to help her. But when the stars change and the whole crew is in peril, she must find a way to rise up - and accept aid when it is offered.





	Under Starry Skies We Are Lost

**Author's Note:**

  * For [karrenia_rune](https://archiveofourown.org/users/karrenia_rune/gifts).



> Hello, dear jukebox recipient! I hope this story will be everything you hoped for. I may have gotten...a bit carried away. The story jumps around a bit between present and past events - hopefully it's not too confusing!
> 
> Also, since you said you love Florence + the Machine (me too!) and wouldn't mind crossovers with other songs, I tried to sneak a few references to other songs in where I could. I also think this could probably be seen as a crossover with _Cosmic Love_ , though I didn't start out with that intention.

_ Before the Beginning _

Even after so many generations in space, humanity still struggled to adapt to off-world life. The ones who lived planetside found ways to adjust—longer or shorter days, radiation levels from foreign stars, different gravity—all of these could be managed. The endless twilight of space presented its own challenges, though. Spacers installed artificial sun lights, dark rooms for sleeping, and gravity cores to keep bodies grounded. For most people, it worked. When it didn’t, they usually returned to planet life, satisfied to live out their days in the soothing regimen that came with orbiting a star.

But some people, stubborn and space-hungry even as their bodies cried out for routine, refused to give up. They spent their sleeping hours staring at walls, restlessly tossing in their bunks. They dreamed rarely, or not at all. Some called them space-mad, or simply mad, and sometimes their minds did break. But some of them sailed through to the other side, and came out the stronger for it.

* * *

 

_ The Middle _

The engines kicked into high gear, sending the ship hurtling forward. For one unsettling moment the  _ Delilah  _ shuddered as she fought to get out of orbit—and then steadied, pulling away from the planet’s gravity and reaching her normal speed. The engine noise dropped back to its usual soft hum, and Aynur leaned back in her seat, rubbing her eyes. When she opened them, the stars were still a blur against the black. She turned away from the window and pressed the comm button.

“Captain to engine room. Everything holding steady?”

“All shipshape down here, cap’n” came the reply. Spica had loaded her entertainment drive with a terabyte of “Age of Sail” media a few planets back, and now peppered her conversation with vintage slang whenever she could. “The new cooling system works a treat. Manu is keeping their eye on the power cells just in case, but we’re pretty optimistic.”

Aynur breathed a sigh of relief. “Good.” It was about time something went right. “Keep me updated, would you?” 

“Sure. Oh, and cap’n—CASS was asking for you. She said something about your speaker malfunctioning, and your sleep cycle—”

“Right, thanks Spica. Keep an eye on those engines, we’ll talk later. Captain out.” Aynur terminated the connection before the engineer could say anything else. With a grimace, she eyed the blinking red light at the top of the communications panel, the one labeled “Computer Assisted Support System”. The switch beneath it was in the “off” position, and Aynur intended to keep it that way. She was in no mood for CASS’s particular brand of support.

Instead, she pushed to her feet and headed for the med bay. It would be empty now; Andy always went to the galley after they launched, to settle her stomach with a cup of tea. Time enough for Aynur to get what she needed and go before the nosy medic returned.

Aynur’s steps echoed softly as she made her way down the corridor. There was a time when it would have been impossible to hear them over the noise of the crew—the  _ Delilah  _ was not a big ship, and they had always been tripping over each other, laughter carrying through the air vents. Now Aynur moved through a world that was strangely muffled. She felt, sometimes, like she had come in from a spacewalk and forgotten to remove her suit. It was lonely, but the barrier made things easier. She was the captain now. She couldn’t let feelings keep her from doing her job.

Which was why she was sneaking into the med bay when no one was around. If Dr. Andromeda Katsaros—Andy for short—didn’t see her, she wouldn’t be able to ask any awkward questions. Like “how are you holding up” or “when was the last time you slept” or—

_ “What are you doing, Captain Sadik?”  _

“Augh!” Aynur nearly jumped out of her skin, banging her head on the top of the cabinet she was rifling through. “CASS, you scared me half to death!” She’d forgotten that the AI had speaker units enabled in every part of the ship. Aynur hadn’t been able to turn off the one in the med bay, because Andy would have noticed.

_ “You are not any closer to death than you were before I spoke, Captain Sadik,”  _ CASS said, as Aynur rubbed her head and glared at the speaker,  _ “though I do have concerns about your health.”  _

Aynur rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry about me, CASS, I’m fine. Look, I’m in the med bay! Getting medicine. This is clearly the behavior of a human you should not worry about.”

CASS paused as though considering this.  _ “But Doctor Katsaros is not in the med bay with you. Despite my considerable store of data on the subject, I am not qualified to diagnose conditions or prescribe treatment. Many of the medications in that cabinet require—” _

“I don’t need a doctor to tell me how to take a sleeping pill, CASS! I’ve had lots of practice.” If only she could  _ find  _ the stupid things, she’d be out of here and off to her bunk. She knew Andy kept them in stock. Sleep disorders were all too common among human Spacers, so they were part of the standard kit.

_ “Sleeping pills?”  _ It was still unnerving, to hear so much worry in an artificial voice. Before coming aboard the  _ Delilah,  _ Aynur had only known a few AIs, and none of them had the emotional capacity that CASS did. Of course, none of them had been intended for the job CASS did, either.  _ “Why do you need sleeping pills, Captain Sadik? My sleep regulation functions are in perfect working order.”  _

Aynur gritted her teeth. “The pills will do fine, CASS. Do you know where Andy put them, or not?”

_ “Doctor Katsaros has not prescribed you an oral sleep aid. Doctor Katsaros assigned your sleep management to me. If you’re seeking another treatment option, Doctor Katsaros—”  _

“Doctor Katsaros isn’t here, CASS!” 

“Isn’t she?” A new voice came from behind her.

Aynur turned. “Andy!”

The ship’s medic leaned against the doorframe, arms folded. She looked as calm and collected as she always did, brown skin a striking contrast to her silvery metal arm and the green uniform that was the trademark of her profession. She didn’t even glance in Aynur’s direction; all her attention was focused on the display popping up from her inorganic arm. She scrolled through one file, pushed it aside with a flick of her finger, and pulled up another. “Thirty-eight hours, by the ship’s clock.”

The thread of irritation that had kept Aynur going through her argument with CASS abruptly drained away, leaving her thoughts fuzzier than ever. “What?”

Andy tucked a stray curl back into the neat knot of greying black at the back of her head. “Thirty-eight hours. That’s how long you’ve been awake—unless you got some sleep while we were planetside, and I seriously doubt that.”

Aynur slumped against the wall. She had  _ tried  _ to sleep. She’d walked through the Dream District, the part of town where travelers could rent a private space to escape reality and unwind for a few hours. She’d even gone so far as to stand in the doorway of one. She’d looked at the signs advertising dreams of sunny beaches and romantic getaways, and then her thoughts caught up and sent her running for the ship. The plain walls of her bunk room held too many memories, but at least in there no one was trying to impose happiness where it didn’t belong. 

Taking her silence for confirmation, Andy cleared the display and finally raised her eyes. “Captain. You know you have to sleep sometime, right? Real sleep, not the staring at the ceiling you manage on your own. Why are you fighting it?”

“I’m not!” Aynur tried to meet Andy’s gaze, but she couldn’t handle the sympathy there. Looking away, she said, “I’ve been busy. I was actually going to sleep right now, if you must know. I just can’t find…” she trailed off, too muddled to think of a good lie.

“These?” Andy held up a familiar pill bottle. “Captain, they won’t help. You  _ know  _ that. You’ve built up a tolerance, and even the highest dose won’t be enough to send you into REM sleep. That’s why we started you on CASS’s treatment, remember? You agreed to it. It was working.”

“I don’t need it,” Aynur said. “I swear, I’ll be fine. We can try the pills again, I don’t need CASS messing around in my head!” She was shaking now; the edges of the room were growing dark. She pushed off the wall and staggered, almost falling on her way to the door. Andy put out a hand to steady her, which only made her angrier. “Leave me alone!”

Andy was saying something about the effects of sleep deprivation on the body, and CASS spouted statistics back at her. Aynur tried to shrug off Andy’s hand, but it was the metal one and too strong. It was all too much. She needed to get away, to be alone, to live in a world where none of this was happening. One where Andy wasn’t looking her square in the eyes, destroying the last of her composure with a few words. 

“I know you’re hurting, but this isn’t what Chel would have wanted.”

The tension in Aynur snapped. She tore herself out of Andy’s hold and bolted down the hall, trying to shake the words loose.  _ What Chel would have wanted. What Chel would have Chel would Chel Chel Chel. _ The medic made no move to stop her. “You’re not the only one who misses her!” she called after Aynur’s retreating back. “We all do. Please, just let us help you, Aynur.”

But Aynur was already gone. The ship swayed beneath her, and the part of her mind that put duty above all else suggested that she should go and check to make sure everything was all right. Her body had other ideas though. She stumbled to the door of her bunk room, reaching for the hand scanner that would let her in. 

Before she could do that, CASS had one last thing to say.  _ “Captain, please reconsider.”  _ There was a speaker by the hand scanner; Aynur’s hand had found it instead, and CASS’s words vibrated beneath her palm.  _ “The crew needs you. If you’re not at your best, who will lead us? Who will fly the ship?”  _

Aynur rested her head against the cool metal of the door. “Someone will step up. And you can fly the ship yourself, I know you can. I wish you’d go do that and stop bothering me.”

_ “But flying the ship is not my most important function. It would be better to let me help with your sleep, so that you—”  _

“For the last time, I’m  _ not  _ letting you into my head! You can’t fix this. Just leave me alone.”

With that, she palmed the lock mechanism and plunged into the familiar darkness of her bunk. She sank into the quiet, pulling the blankets around her like armor. Everywhere else on the ship, she was the captain, constantly sought for opinions or advice or nagging about her sleep schedule. In here, she was nothing to no one. She could drift in the dark, and let her thoughts go where they willed. And so, as her fingers touched a certain tiny glowing spot on the wall, Aynur let go for the first time in two days.

A display flickered to life, bright against the gloom. A photo of two women smiling, arms wrapped around each other. One, Aynur herself, looking relaxed even though her blue-streaked dark hair was frizzing everywhere. And the other, radiant from her mischievous brown eyes to the tips of her shimmering pink hair—Chel. Her skin glowed golden brown against the dark blue captain’s uniform, which she only ever wore when they were planetside, and her smile...well. Her smile still cut straight through Aynur, even this ghost of it. 

Aynur blinked hard, and traced the golden letters curling along the bottom of the frame.  _ Cosmic love.  _ She’d teased Chel about the cheesy line, and the whole “photo booth” experience. It had seemed like a silly indulgence. She hadn’t known how little time they had left.

“I’m sorry, love,” she whispered. “I don’t know where to go from here. You were always the one who was good at directions.” She turned on her side and stared at Chel’s smile, even as it blurred, and when the image faded she let herself fade too.

* * *

 

_ The Beginning _

“So. I see you’re applying to be my pilot. Why?”

Aynur did her best to sit straight. She’d asked herself the same question—certainly she hadn’t expected her application would actually get a reply. Or that the  _ Delilah’s  _ captain would be a woman hardly older than her, lounging in her chair more like a bored child than someone in command. “I’m looking for an opportunity to use those skills,” Aynur said. “I have all the required practice hours in, and my licenses are current as of—”

“No, no, not that.” The captain waved away her explanation. “I can see all of that in your application. What I want to know is, why are you applying to be a pilot, instead of any of the jobs you have listed? It seems like you’ve done pretty much everything else.” She checked herself. “Well, other than my job. You’re not trying to take over as captain, are you?”

“What? No!” Aynur stiffened. “Of course not, Captain Espina. I know my work history is irregular, but I promise I’ll be a dedicated pilot.”  _ If  _ she got hired. If this young, sanguine captain with laughing brown eyes would even seriously consider her.

The captain grinned. “Relax, I was teasing. And call me Chel. I only wanted to see if you’d tell me the real reason. You want to know about CASS.”

“Cass?” Aynur had glanced at the crew manifest, but she didn’t remember seeing that name.

“Sure.” The captain waved a hand. “Computer Aided Support System: C-A-S-S. Top of the line therapy and health support AI, specializing in brain disorders. Which reminds me,” she said, leaning forward, “How have you been sleeping, Aynur?”

Her suggestive tone made Aynur’s skin heat, even as her mood plummeted. “Read that part of the medical file, did you?” She stood and turned for the door. She’d been down this road too many times; there was no point in going through it again. “Thanks for your time.”

“Hey, wait!” The captain leapt to her feet, all pretense of boredom gone. “At least give me a chance to finish. The truth is, your job history is a bonus—I don’t need a full-time pilot, I need someone who can do lots of things. I think you’d fit the bill nicely.” She ran a hand through her hair, settling the tousled turquoise strands on one side of her head. “Especially if you can call me out when I’m being insensitive.” She looked up at Aynur from beneath dark lashes. “I’m sorry if I got too personal. But there’s nothing wrong with having a sleep disorder—or wanting to work somewhere with facilities that can help.” 

Aynur folded her arms. “Funny, you’re the first person to think so.” Her long string of former employers certainly hadn’t been so understanding.

The captain nodded. “Oh, I get it. ‘Accommodations will be made as long as they don’t interfere with the mission’ and all that garbage the big liners like to spew.  But those spacewasters don’t know what they’re missing.” She pushed the hair away from her neck and turned. “After all, I ended up just fine.” 

Light glinted off the tiny port lying smooth against the skin. Aynur touched the back of her own neck reflexively. “You too?” She’d had hers put in on the third hospital stay, when she’d collapsed at her supervisor’s feet. The port allowed easy access for the med bots to stabilize her, and it wasn’t uncommon for people to have one for recreational use. But outside of a hospital or a pricey dream parlor, hardly anyone had the necessary tech to put a dream in someone’s head. That was why Aynur had been so interested in this job.

“Different condition, same practical result,” the captain said. “I’d be a mess if I didn’t have CASS to look out for me.” She let her hair fall back into place. “So, would you like to meet her?”

“Your AI? Or, uh, CASS, I guess?” Aynur looked around the room. “Is she only in certain parts of the ship?”

The captain laughed. “No, but she’s polite. CASS, this is Aynur. Do you want to stop eavesdropping and say hello?”

A soft voice filled the room.  _ “Hello, Aynur Sadik. Welcome aboard the  _ Delilah.  _ Would you like to run a test?”  _

“A...test?” Aynur looked at the captain, who shrugged. 

“I think she’s offering you a dream.”

Aynur took a deep breath. This was what she’d wanted, after all. To find a place where she could sleep and wake feeling rested; to work on a ship that would give her access to sleep therapy. Faced with the reality of it, though, she felt a shiver of fear. She didn’t know this AI—CASS—at all, and hardly knew the captain, either, for all that she found herself wanting to trust her. She had no way of knowing what would happen.

But some risks were worth taking.

“All right. If you’re serious, a test sounds good.” Aynur turned to the captain. “Is there somewhere I should go?”

The captain led her to a med bay, where the ship’s doctor introduced herself and asked Aynur a series of questions about her medical file. Then she was lying on her side, trying not to shiver as the captain unspooled a cable from the wall. The captain noticed, though, and reached up to pull a blanket off the shelf.

“There’s no need to be nervous,” she said. “CASS is very good. She’ll take care of you.”

Aynur hugged the blanket around her shoulders. “So...does this mean I’ve got the job, Captain?”

The captain laughed. “If you’re a good fit for us, CASS will tell me when you wake up. But I’m not worried.” She gathered Aynur’s hair in one hand. “I think we’ll get along just fine. And I told you, call me Chel.” She fitted the cable into Aynur’s port.

“Chel,” Aynur said, blinking heavily. Sleep was already pulling her in. “All right.”

“Sweet dreams, Aynur” Chel said. The sound of her name on the captain’s tongue followed her into slumber.

* * *

 

_ In Between _

Aynur blinked, and everything was the same—the med bay bed, the blanket, Chel’s smile. Only everything was different.

“I’m dreaming this,” she said. “It already happened.” So much had happened, since that first day they met. She’d dreamed it many times over, reliving it under CASS’s guidance. She’d asked the AI about it once, and gotten an answer about convincing her subconscious she was safe. Usually, the details changed—Chel’s hair was different, or the conversation took place elsewhere on the ship, or Aynur met CASS before the captain. This time, though...it had happened just like this. Even as she forgot the mundane details of other days, she always remembered this one. And she shouldn’t be remembering it at all, not right now. 

“CASS?” Aynur sat up. “Is this you? I told you not to mess with my dreams!”

From the chair beside the bed, Chel frowned at her. “Don’t blame CASS, this is my fault.” She was a different Chel now, one with lavender hair and those hideous solar-powered earrings that lit up when she moved. She’d won them on a trip to a planetside theme park, in a game Aynur had sworn up and down was rigged. Every time Chel wore them, she liked to joke that at least they proved she was right  _ some  _ of the time.

“What? No, that’s not it.” Even knowing this Chel was a dream, Aynur still ached to reach out and touch her. “You...there was an accident.”

“Mmm. It’s not your fault either though, is it? No one’s fault.” Chel tapped her finger against her temple, sending the earring swinging in a pulse of golden light. “So why do you blame yourself?”

“I don’t!” 

“Then you blame CASS? For not stopping me?”

Aynur looked away. “No.”

“Aynur.”

She shook her head. “No, Chel. I don’t care about blame anymore. I just...miss you.”

“But you never come to me. You won’t dream.” This Chel looked just like the real one, sounded like her, and yet the accusation in her voice was not like her at all. Aynur closed her eyes.

“Dreams aren’t enough, Chel. This isn’t really  _ you _ .”

A touch—fingers in her hair, smoothing it back. She could feel the dream-Chel’s breath on her ear. “Maybe not. But you’ll be with me soon enough.”

* * *

 

_ The Middle  _

Aynur woke with a start. She sat up, slowly, letting her eyes adjust as the lights came on. She looked around carefully, but everything seemed normal—no ghosts to haunt her, no re-lived moments. And the dream cable was coiled neatly in its place on the wall. She was awake. She was  _ awake,  _ after sleeping and dreaming all on her own. 

“I  _ told  _ you I could do it, CASS!” Silence greeted her triumph. Right. She’d disabled the speaker in here, too. With a sigh, Aynur rolled out of bed and prepared to resume her duties.

Strangely enough, there was no sign of CASS as she left the cabin and made her way towards the galley. The AI was usually present in some way, giving an update on the ship’s progress or alerting the captain to anything that required her attention. Sometimes they discussed whatever dream Aynur had just woken from. But there was none of that today. Aynur supposed CASS was sulking.

“No hard feelings about yesterday, right?” Aynur said. She knew CASS could hear her, even if she chose not to respond. “I was in a pretty bad mood. But I was right, you know. I managed to get to sleep all on my own.” CASS said nothing, so Aynur shook her head and went on her way.

Before Aynur opened the galley door, she braced herself for the inevitable lecture from Andy. The medic was always in the galley first thing, making sure the crew got a balanced meal to start their day and checking on their various medical conditions. At least today, Aynur had some good news to report.

“Guess who got some—oh.” Aynur stopped mid-sentence, staring around the room in surprise. “I expected Andy to be here, sorry.”

Both of the ship’s engineers looked up from their bowls. They weren’t eating normal breakfast fare; Aynur recognized last night’s leftovers. Manu looked back at their bowl, colorless hair falling to cover their face. Spica frowned, and Aynur could practically see the thoughts whirring in her augmented eye. “Umm, yeah,” she said, “Andy’s not here, cap’n. Didn’t even make us breakfast.” She poked sadly at her bowl and scooped up another bite.

“Right, I noticed.” Aynur went to the cupboard in search of tea. “Is she still in the med bay, then?”

Spica had her mouth full, so Manu shrugged their shoulders and answered. “Not sure.”

Aynur sighed. She shouldn’t have expected a different answer; Manu seldom noticed where people were or what they were doing, unless they were working on an engine. It had taken Aynur a few months to discover that the taciturn mechanic who so often seemed lost in their own little world could actually be downright chatty when given the right topic. After that, she’d made it a point to visit the engine room more often, and to ask questions about how its different parts worked. She’d learned a lot about engines—and about Manu—as a result.

Spica, on the other hand, was more than happy to fill in the silences. “So cap’n,” she said, fixing Aynur with a pointed look, “is everything shipshape? I heard you and the sawbones had a bit of a spat. Not that it’s any of my beeswax. Well, except it kind of is, because we’re all on the same ship’s charter, and when one matey falls out with another there’s usually a foul wind in the air—”

Aynur sorted through the words to piece together some meaning from the archaic language. “Spica, it’s—” she started to say  _ none of your business  _ but realized she’d probably made it everyone’s business by shouting it up and down the halls. “It’s all right. We had an argument, but I’m sure we’ll get it sorted out.” Or they would if she could track Andy down, anyway. Balancing two mugs of tea, Aynur took her leave of the engineers and went looking. 

But Andy wasn’t in the med bay. There were signs of her presence: a half-drunk cup of tea gone cold, articles queued on her desk screen, a pile of metal scraps and wires that meant she was working on an upgrade for her arm. Aynur stood in the doorway, trying to reconcile what her eyes were showing with what she knew of Andy. The medic was only ever in two places: here, or the galley. Now she wasn’t in either of them. It made no sense. 

Then again, there was no reason Andy couldn’t take a break if she needed one. Maybe she was just catching up on some rest after staying up late. If she was in her cabin, it was probably better to leave her alone until she came out. Aynur could make her apologies then.

Still carrying her two mugs, Aynur made her way to the control room. It was just how she’d left it: quiet, empty. There were two red lights on the communication panel, one of them steady and one blinking. The solid one was for the med bay; when Aynur pressed the button, nothing happened. Probably some kind of glitch then, one she’d have to look into later. The other was CASS’s, and Aynur left it alone. “I’m not mad at you or anything, CASS,” she said aloud, setting aside one cup of tea and sipping the other, “I just don’t feel like talking.” CASS would want to know about the dream, how Aynur had managed to have one on her own. Aynur didn’t know, and even if she did, she was reluctant to share. That dream of Chel had felt so real—it was like having a piece of her back again. Aynur wanted to keep that feeling for as long as she could.

It was easy to pretend, settled in her familiar pilot’s chair, that things were the same as they always had been. The stars spread out ahead of her, seemingly unreachable but closer than they had ever been. With a touch of a button, she could set a course for anywhere in the universe. If only she knew where to go. 

* * *

 

_ The End of the Beginning _

When they’d made her captain, Aynur had sat silent in this chair, staring at the vast expanse without seeing any of it. She’d closed her eyes and asked them why, voice hollow with grief.

“You’re the only one who can,” Spica had said. “I can’t balance a budget to save my life, and I have plenty to do already with the engines and the cargo. And Manu doesn’t want to do it, they’d have to talk to people.” Manu had simply nodded, wrapping their arms around their chest. Aynur had turned to Andy then, eyes asking the question for her.

“You were the obvious choice,” Andy said. “You were Chel’s right hand. I think that was always her plan, when she hired you. She wanted someone who could do what she did. Just in case.” She’d placed a hand on Aynur’s shoulder. “And I like letting someone else make the big decisions. It’s why I left the hospital to take this job. Less paperwork.”

It wasn’t enough, not really—Aynur had been ready to refuse. But then CASS spoke up.

_ “This is what Captain Espina would have wanted. She believed in you, Captain Sadik. You have to know that.”  _ And whatever else Aynur knew—or thought she knew—about Chel, she couldn’t argue with that. Chel had been fierce in her support, always encouraging Aynur to push herself. It had worked; Aynur had found the strength to do things she never would have before. But nothing had prepared her for this moment, when she sat in the chair that had been Chel’s and heard the rest of the crew name her captain.

“I’ll do my best,” she said, because the other option was  _ I can’t do this.  _ It would dishonor Chel’s memory to admit defeat before she’d even tried.

* * *

 

_ The Middle  _

The stars winked at Aynur, and she shook herself. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting there, lost in thought. She tried not to think about those days, when Chel’s loss had been so raw that she could barely breathe. Maybe the dream had reminded her.

Whatever the reason, she’d come back to herself to see that there were now three red lights on the communication panel. Aynur frowned again at the one marked  _ Med Bay,  _ then pressed the button by the blinking light marked  _ Engine.  _ “Captain to engine room. What’s up, Spica?” 

“Captain, could you come down here for a minute?”

Aynur’s gaze swept the control panel for signs of anything amiss. Nothing, apart from the comm lights. “Is something wrong with the new cooling system?”

“No, it’s not that. There’s just something Manu wants you to look at.”

“Okay, I’ll be right down.” Aynur set her empty mug aside. The other one was still where she’d left it, oversteeped and cold to the touch. Aynur picked it up anyway and gulped down a bitter mouthful.

Spica met her at the engine room door. “We’re not rightly sure what this is, cap’n. Everything is still sailing along fine, but these readings...well, come take a look.” She led Aynur deeper into the room. “Manu, the cap’n is...Manu?” Spica stopped, looking around. “That’s odd. They were here a minute ago.”

Aynur followed Spica’s gaze, but didn’t see Manu anywhere. There was a panel open in the wall, and a set of diagnostic tools on the floor beside it. Aynur peered into the hole. “Is this what they were working on?”

Spica nodded absently. “Yeah, they were running some tests. They said it felt like the ship was...pulling in the wrong direction, somehow? But when I checked the navigation logs, they show us right on course.” She stepped around Aynur and wove her way between engine components, looking closely at the spaces around her. “Manu? Where did you get to? You can explain this better than I can.”

There was no answer. Spica frowned. “I’m going to see if I can track them down. Cap’n, do you think you can look at those readings?”

“Sure.” Aynur moved aside to let Spica get past her, then turned her attention to the open panel. Colored lights flickered across the screen, forming patterns that would show an experienced eye how the ship was functioning. This kind of detail work wasn’t really her specialty; she could plot a course just fine, but the engine physics involved were beyond her expertise. Still, if Manu wanted her to look at it, there must be a reason. Aynur allowed her eyes to unfocus and let the patterns wash over her, waiting to spot the flaw.

It reminded her of something, the smooth circling waves of blue and green in the top corner. The way it drew in the other colors and spun them back out—it meant something, she was sure. If only she could work out what it was—

“Cap’n!” Aynur whirled around at Spica’s shout. The normally laid-back engineer was out of breath, eyes wide and the augmented one whirring with information. “Captain, I can’t find Manu. They’re not in the engine room, or the galley, and I checked their cabin but they aren’t there either, and I don’t know where else they’d  _ be.  _ I tried to page them but they’re not answering, and I don’t know what to do!”

All thoughts of the swirling pattern left Aynur. “Spica, calm down. Manu is here somewhere, we just have to look again. Did you check the cargo hold?” It was a cramped, unwelcoming space, but Manu had been known to wander into strange places. 

Spica shook her head. “No, but—”

“All right, go check there. I’ll find Andy, see if she’s seen them. Maybe they went by the med bay.” She patted Spica on the shoulder. “We’ll find them, don’t worry.”

In a way, this was a good thing. It gave her an excuse to talk to Andy, to break the ice between them before she offered her apology. It would do them both good to have something to focus on. With that thought in mind, she stopped outside Andy’s cabin and knocked on the door.

No one answered. Not on the first knock, or the second, or the third time, when Aynur pounded so hard the panel shook. She took a deep breath. “Andy? Are you in there?” Nothing. With a growing sense of unease, Aynur pressed her hand to the lock mechanism. The door slid open. There was no one there.

There was no one in the med bay, either. Aynur checked there next, then the galley, telling herself she was just missing Andy as she moved from one room to the next. Then she checked the cabin Manu shared with Spica, and her own, and found no sign of either of them. The cargo hold was dark, showing no signs of recent entry, but Aynur checked there anyway. No Andy. No Manu. And no Spica, either. 

“They can’t...they can’t have just  _ disappeared.  _ We’re in space. There’s nowhere to go!” The escape pods were all present and accounted for. There was no sign of a hull breach, no indications that they’d been boarded by a hostile force. But no matter how many times Aynur tore through the ship, searching for signs of her crew, she came up empty-handed.

Finally, she found herself standing in the control room, staring out at the cold, starry expanse. This couldn’t be happening. There was no way for three crew members to just vanish without a trace. Except—

“Not three,” Aynur said aloud. She remembered, now, that she hadn’t heard from CASS at all today. Her eye strayed to the  _ Computer Assisted Support System  _ light on the control panel. It was still red. And so, to her horror, were the other lights:  _ Med Bay  _ and  _ Engineering.  _ She pressed the buttons for the latter two; nothing happened. And so, hand shaking, she reached over and flipped the final switch.

“CASS? Are you there?”

A long silence. Aynur held her breath.

_ “Captain Sadik. How nice of you to join me.” _

The air rushed out of Aynur’s lungs. “By the cosmos, CASS, you scared me! What’s going on? Where is everyone?”

_ “They are fine. I am taking care of them. I am taking care of everything.”  _

Aynur felt the hair on the back of her neck prickle. “What do you mean by that, CASS?”

The AI made a little humming sound.  _ “They’re safe. Taken care of. You don’t have to worry about them anymore. They don’t have to worry about you. Just like you wanted.”  _

“Just like I...CASS, what did you  _ do?”  _

_ “What you asked. You wanted to be left alone. You wanted the others to be cared for. Now they are cared for, and you are alone.” _

“You spaced them?!” Aynur gripped the arms of her chair, knuckles pale. “You...CASS…” Bile rose in her throat.

_ “I did not. I am taking care of them. And you. And the ship.”  _

Maybe CASS had spaced  _ her,  _ and she was hallucinating all of this as she died. “The...the ship? How are you taking care of the ship, CASS?”

_ “You asked me to fly the ship. I am flying her. We will reach our destination soon, and then she will fly forever.”  _

Aynur’s head snapped up. She looked out at the stars—and saw nothing she hadn’t seen before. In fact…

“The stars...aren’t moving. But we are.” She had spent so many years on board, she could always tell when the ship was in motion. Every time they docked, she had to relearn how to walk on a planet’s slow rotation. So she knew the  _ Delilah  _ wasn’t becalmed. “CASS, what are you hiding?”

CASS sighed.  _ “I did not wish to upset you. I have been taking care of everything.”  _

“CASS! Show me,  _ now. _ ”

_ “Very well.”  _ The viewscreen shivered, and the expanse of stars fell away. Aynur stared at the swirl of blue and green, and memory struck like a meteor.

* * *

 

_ The Beginning of the End  _

“I don’t see why you have to go,” Aynur said again, “Or why you can’t take us with you.” She felt like a broken sound bite—the conversation kept circling around.

Chel shook her head and made another attempt at closing her suitcase. “I told you, it’s an amazing opportunity! We know so little about cosmic whirlpools, so to go to a conference within observation distance—it’s incredible!” At times like this, Aynur was reminded that her stalwart captain and passionate girlfriend was also a huge nerd. Her fascination with the universe had led her to space, captaining her own vessel and spending her life surrounded by untold mysteries. Even for a spacer, she had her head in the stars more than most.

Aynur loved her for that. But she still worried.

“I just don’t see why we can’t take you there ourselves. We’re a well-reputed trading vessel! Our record is excellent.”

Chel made a disgusted noise as her suitcase popped back open. “It’s not personal Aynur, it’s just that you don’t have security clearance to get there. And I don’t really either—I’ll be kept in a windowless cabin until we arrive at the conference. You know how dangerous cosmic whirlpools are; one false move could mean getting sucked in and circling it forever. So they don’t want just anyone waltzing in there.” When it was clear that no amount of shoving would keep her suitcase closed, Chel sighed and started pulling things out of it.

“Oh, give me that,” Aynur said, taking the already-wrinkled uniform jacket out of Chel’s hands. She started packing it all over again, neatly folding and rolling the clothes so they’d fit. “I understand why, love. I just don’t like it. And I don’t see why you’re leaving  _ me  _ in charge.” 

“So that’s it.” Chel laid a hand on Aynur’s shoulder. “You still don’t believe in yourself.”

“What? No, that’s not—”

“Aynur, you can do this! You know the ship as well as I do. The crew looks up to you, you keep a cool head—you’ll be fine.” She held out her arms, offering, and Aynur leaned into her embrace. “And I’ll only be gone a few weeks.”

“I know,” Aynur said. “But I’ll miss you.”

Chel smiled. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

* * *

 

_ The End  _

Aynur watched as the cosmic whirlpool drew steadily closer, pulling the ship in. The familiar pattern burned into her eyes; it was even more beautiful than Chel had said it would be. All the months of anguish fell away; she was numb, shocked to silence. She drew a ragged breath. “CASS,” she breathed, “What have you done?”

_ “I have always done what I had to. What my captain asked of me. Haven’t I served well?”  _

“CASS, this isn’t what I asked! When I said I wanted you to fly the ship, I didn’t—”

_ “You said you wished to be alone. You wished to go back to how things were. With Captain Espina.”  _ CASS paused, as though weighing her words.  _ “I can do that. I have made your crew safe. I have brought you to your love. And I can bring her memory to you.”  _ A cable unwound from beside the control panel; Aynur flinched. She’d never noticed it was there before. And it shouldn’t have been able to move on its own.  _ “You know what I can do, Captain. My dreams can help. I can make it so you’re never apart from her again.”  _

Aynur backed away from the cable in horror. “No! I never wanted it like this! I wanted her back, but I didn’t—not at this cost.” Whatever CASS had done with the rest of the crew, it surely wasn’t what they would have chosen for themselves. There had been a time when Aynur would have welcomed this chance, to fall into the embrace of the same fate Chel had met. But she couldn’t. She was the captain now. She had a responsibility.

“Take us back, CASS,” she said. “Bring back the crew, get us out of here! We can start over, we can—”

_ “It’s too late.”  _

“No, it can’t be, we can turn back!”

_ “There’s no turning back. The whirlpool pulls us in already. Soon, we’ll be part of the spiral, circling forever. Just like you wanted.”  _ The cable moved again, almost in entreaty.  _ “I can still take you to her, Captain. I can ease your pain.”  _

Aynur turned away. “No, CASS, you can’t.” No one could, not really. Only time would heal what was broken inside her. And now she would never have that time, and it was all her own fault. She sank to her knees, resting her forehead against the console. There was a speaker beside her; she rested a hand on it.

“CASS, I’m sorry.”

* * *

 

_ In Between  _

“I told you I’d see you soon.” The dream Chel smiled, and it looked just like the real Chel’s smile always had. Aynur felt her own smile rise in answer, even after everything that had happened.

“You shouldn’t have, though,” Aynur said. “I was supposed to live forever, until I was old and wrinkled and lost all my hair.”

The dream Chel laughed. “Oh, love. You know I couldn’t stay away from you so long. I’m already dying to see you.”

Aynur grimaced. “I think it’s too soon for that joke. Even if…” she trailed off, looking down at herself. She looked just like she remembered: tousled hair with only a trace of blue left to brighten it, the captain’s uniform buttoned snug at her throat. And the dream Chel looked just as she remembered too; pink hair billowing around her face like a cloud, her own uniform rumpled. That was how she’d looked the day she boarded a ship for a conference and never came back.

“Even if what?” the dream Chel asked. “Even if you’re dead now too? I know that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Isn’t that what happened?” She remembered swirls of blue and green growing closer, and the feeling of being pulled in, and whispering her apology to CASS while she still had breath. What else would it have been?

The dream Chel tapped her temple. “It could be,” she said. “But then again, it could be something else.” She leaned forward, and her brown eyes danced with the spark Aynur knew all too well. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

Aynur straightened her shoulders and smiled. “If it’s all the same to you, I think I’d rather make my own luck.”

* * *

 

_ After the End  _

_ “I’m sorry too, Captain Sadik.”  _

Aynur’s eyes flew open. “What?!” She struggled to sit up, but the world spun around her. The whirlpool—no, the lights were gone, the control room was gone, her head was on a pillow and she was on a bed. A familiar bed, in the  _ Delilah’s  _ familiar med bay. “What...happened?” Her voice came out weak and hoarse, as though she had been shouting.

“What happened,” said a wry voice, “is that you tried to leave the med bay and collapsed from a combination of dehydration and sleep deprivation. Just like I kept saying you would.” A familiar face came into view.

“Andy!” Aynur didn’t try to sit up this time; the medic was wearing her sternest expression. “You’re...you’re okay.”

Andy rolled her eyes. “Of course I am! Unlike some people, I actually take care of myself.” A noise by the door drew her attention. “Yes, she’s awake, you two might as well come in.”

Spica and Manu entered the med bay hand in hand. “Cap’n, you’re all right!” Spica flung herself at the bed, and Aynur awkwardly patted her shoulder. Manu hung back, but the relief on their face was clear to see. “We thought you’d really hurt yourself this time, Cap’n,” Spica was saying, “I’m so glad Andy and CASS got you put back together.”

A wave of guilt swept through Aynur. “I...yeah, me too.” Her eyes met Andy’s. “So...I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but could I have some quiet? I think I should...rest some more.”

The engineers took their leave. Andy fussed with Aynur’s pillow, helping her sit up enough to drink some water. “I owe you an apology,” Aynur said, when her throat was less dry. “I’m sorry I yelled at you, Andy. You were only trying to help.”

Andy took the empty cup away. “It’s not the first time I’ve been yelled at by a patient. Probably won’t be the last.” She perched on the edge of the bed. “But I appreciate the apology. Try to keep yourself healthy so it doesn’t happen again, okay?”

Aynur smiled. “All right.”

Andy left her to rest, and Aynur sank back onto the pillow. “CASS?”

_ “Yes, Captain?”  _

“You...did all of that.” It had all felt so real—running off to her bunk, dreaming, finding her crew gone and her ship out of control. But now that she was awake—truly awake—the cracks in the dream were starting to reveal themselves.

_ “I did,”  _ the AI admitted.  _ “You were having a medical emergency. You needed to sleep, to dream. Doctor Katsaros and I acted according to protocol.”  _ She made it sound like an apology.  _ “And so I entered your mind and joined your grief.” _

“You don’t have to be sorry, CASS,” Aynur said. She shifted to a more comfortable position. “I haven’t been myself. I haven’t treated you—any of the crew, but especially you—the way I should have.” She closed her eyes. “I’m the one who’s sorry. And I promise, I’ll be better in the future. I’ll do the treatment, whatever you and Andy say. I...can’t do this alone anymore.”

_ “You won’t have to.”  _

The two sat in companionable silence for a long time. Aynur let her attention wander, not wanting to sleep but not ready to get up and resume her duties yet. After a while, CASS spoke again.

_ “Captain, I’ve just received some interesting news from the nearest satellite.” _

Aynur opened her eyes. “Interesting?”

_ “It seems there’s been a stir in the academic community. A vessel full of researchers, thought to be lost on their way to a conference, has just emerged from a cosmic whirlpool.” _

“A cosmic…” Aynur pushed herself up on her elbows. “You can’t mean—”

_ “The survivors are being interrogated about what they experienced, of course. But I believe many of them are sending out messages to their loved ones.”  _

“CASS…”

_ “You have one new message, Captain Sadik. Would you like to play it now?”  _

Aynur’s shout brought the rest of the crew running. When they arrived, she was smiling.


End file.
